


Where The Cold Can't Find You

by kurikinntonn_suki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: And Finding New Ones, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Having to Give Up on Dreams, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurikinntonn_suki/pseuds/kurikinntonn_suki
Summary: It starts when Yuuri gets a warm, itchy feeling on his skin. It continues when his throat clogs up making it difficult to breathe. It ends when he’s diagnosed with a severe allergy to the cold.However, Yuuri nor Viktor will let this be the end.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Kudos: 14





	Where The Cold Can't Find You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is actually the first-ever fic I've posted so go easy on me ( - _ - ; ). 
> 
> The fic is set a few months before Sochi. Yuuri is training in Detroit and Viktor is in Russia but I assure you, they will meet soon.

_Detroit_

Yuuri reached for the dark blue scarf draped on the chair and wrapped it around his neck and part of his chin. He flicked one end of the scarf behind his shoulder but it fell awkwardly from the bulkiness of his coat. 

He woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and each aspect of life was spaces away from piquing his temperament. Trying not to get irrationally angry at the innocent scarf, he pulled it off his neck where he left it neglected on the floor, and walked out. 

The moment Yuuri stepped out of the elevator he was surrounded by cold air and darkness. Typical for Detroit in January. Yuuri disliked the cold; though this was somewhat hypocritical for someone who loved ice skating. He hated how the winds would make it impossible to hide his face. The winds would weave through his scarf and mittens every morning to nip at his skin, but Yuuri’s indoor home rink was like a sanctuary. It was a moderated sort of winter. 

Yuuri used the key to open the entrance to the skating rink. Relieved that no one occupied the rink (though who in their right mind would stake at five in the morning) he sat on a bench and tied his skates in loopy motions to skate. 

Started with some drowsy lines and curves, then progressed to some more intricate step sequences for a future program. 

This light exercise already had Yuuri feeling warm and ready. So he took off his sweater and flung it on a bench. Now with a strange sense of confidence, he took off some jumps and landed some of them cleanly. He thanked the warm tingly feeling that was coursing through his entire body now. 

Triple salchow- he thought as he swerved the back inside of his skate. Mid-air Yuuri knew he didn’t add enough power and let himself fall harmlessly on the ice. He leaned his head back and just lay there staring up at the lattice of frames holding up the ceiling to regain composure and breath.

Yuuri twitched at the foreign sensation of heat where his skin touched the ice. Minutes later the tingle was replaced with an itch, like the most obnoxious feather was catching under his skin. “What in the world is this?” He muttered in English and glanced at his itchy wrist. There were large blotches of swollen watermelon colored skin accompanied by smaller versions on his arm and the back of his hand. 

“Are these hives?”

Yuuri had developed hives before, likely caused by stress a few times in middle and high school so he knew what they looked like. If so he should take some allergy medication. However, what concerned him the most was the parts of skin that had touched the ice were much redder than its counterparts. 

Yuuri was overwhelmed by this evolution and the itchiness worsened by the second. He stood up and grazed a hand under his shirt. Sure enough, he felt irregular patterns on his skin. Sliding to the exit nearest to the bathroom, he hastily walked to the mirror to survey the damage. His cheeks were red, nearing crimson. The blotchiness was more prevalent on his arms and neck as if little devils danced on his skin and left footprints. 

This was just so odd. Such reaction had never occurred in the many years he had been skating, though he did admit to having sensitive skin. 

He snapped a picture with his phone and sent this to his rink mate, Phichit. Slightly guilty for texting him so early on a weekend but deciding the event required attention. He placed his phone down and continued to prod at the (presumable) hives. 

Phichit: wtf I woke up to a picture of irritated skin

Phichit: what is this

Yuuri: No idea I skated for about an hr and got these, guessing they’re hives

Phichit: (T o T) are u okay does it hurt?

Phichit: idk never got them before

Yurri: I have a few times, just took some allergy medicine and it just itches a lot

Phichit: yea I searched hives on the internet and it said to take Benadryl or allergy medicine and if it gets worse go to the hospital 

Yuuri: what’s especially weird is that any part of the skin that touched the ice is much worse

Phichit: that’s concerning, but it might just be that your skin is sensitive

Yuuri: well I’m gonna get some medicine and wait a bit

Phichit: sry I can’t help (TT) tell me if it gets worse okay

Yuuri: kk thx sry for waking u up so early

Phichit: don’t apologize your skin is literally changing color. 

Phichit: Of course, anytime

Looking back at the mirror it still hadn’t gotten better. It had gotten a bit worse since minutes ago. The worst blotches had a sensitive numbness that continued to worsen. 

Panicking slightly, Yuuri searched for the nearest pharmacy and threw his coat on. It was a decent seven-minute walk from the rink. Wanting to hide his affected cheeks and neck, he cursed himself for his baseless outburst of anger and left it at home. 

The breeze hit him as if to try and further agitate the hives. This was why he hated the winter winds. Detroit was especially cold this year, not to mention it was January, the coldest month of the winter. 

The frigid air Yuuri breathed in battled for dominance with knives and spears in his lungs. Trying his best to ignore the itchiness, Yuuri trudged to the pharmacy. 

~ - ~ - ~

The pharmacy was lit with bright green letters and it seemed that it opened just earlier. It was so small that Yuuri worried the medicine wouldn’t even be there, but what pharmacy would not hold basic allergy medicine. Swinging forth the door made the obligatory chime signaling his entrance.

Keeping his head down to hide his current facet, he walked to a random aisle.

Either he could ask for assistance with his face like this and prominent Japanese accent, or he could search five-hundred terms on Google Translate. Both were daunting but he would rather not talk to anyone at the moment so he chose the latter.

Irritated, he pulled up Google Translate on his phone to find the medicine himself. Nowadays he almost always had the tab open. 

Much to his relief, the medicine was found on the same aisle and he found the Benadryl Phichit mentioned. He also grabbed another that didn’t have drowsiness as one of its side effects. Averting any eye contact with the clerk, he made his purchase and took the recommended dose on his way out. 

“Winter vacation lasts another few days.” He thought to himself as he walked to his abode, “I’ll take the day off.”

~ - ~ - ~

The day before New Years - _Oomisoka_ , Yuuri would prepare food for tomorrow with his mother and for the guests, and when it was finally settled the family would watch a television program known as _Kouhaku Uta Gassen_ , where the year’s top-selling musicians would compete with each other. That when Yuuri felt the closure of all the emotions that warped through the months of the year. 

New Year's day - _Ganntann_ , Yuuri would wake up to her mother’s Ozouni - a traditional soup with mochi. Though the season would be bustling with guests, the family made time for the first breakfast of the year. 

But this year, it was all wrong. _Kouhaku Uta Gassen_ didn’t air in America, he was without his family, he couldn’t make Ozouni because of his busy schedule, and there was no way he would go to the extravagant New Years' parties. 

Yuuri had never felt so displaced in this new culture, with a new language, food, social norms, and people. Don’t get him wrong, there were amazing people he was genuinely thankful for, like Phichit and his coach but that was it. 

And now Yuuri had to battle whatever this novel reaction was. 

After about an hour since returning to his apartment of repeatedly checking and feeling dejected that it was not disappearing, he noticed it was dissipating slowly. It was no longer on his face and was only prominent on his arms, but even those were a slight pink. Releasing the breath he felt he had held since the rink, he laid down and gave in to the pull of sleepiness. 

~ - ~ - ~

_Russia_

Viktor considered taking Makkachin on a walk. He considered accepting the sponsorship recently offered. He considered taking a break for one season. He considered coaching. He considered retiring.

Viktor sighed. All of them seemed like a possibility but he hadn’t the slightest idea what to do. 

There was no denying that Viktor lost the inspiration he once had. His skates felt redundant and lacking in some way and the audience knew it. Which made it all the more depressing. He was called the most decorated figure skater yet sometime during the years his decorations were replaced with plastic. 

~ - ~ - ~

_Detroit_

The next day, Yuuri was sure to bring his medicine, scarf, and a mask in case of another unprecedented reaction. Wrapping the scarf over the mask and stacking the folds to cover most of his face, Yuuri finally felt warm enough to step out into the cold. 

Even so, the wind slithered into pockets at his sides and wrapped around Yuuri’s fingertips making them as if they were dipped in crimson watercolor.

He was planning on dedicating his last two days of winter break to ice skating as his jumps were “untrustworthy” according to Celestino. So this extra practice was non-negotiable. 

Yuuri walked into the skating rink and breathed in the light, crisp scent of rubber - a scent he had never been far from. There were about two other seasoned skaters on the rink, including Phichit. 

“Yuuri! Hey over here.” Phichit called. 

“Hi Phichit,” Yuuri replied, “it’s cold today.”

“Yeah, it is. Come, put your skates on, I was just warming up.”

“Okay, just give me a second.”

Yuuri removed his scarf and coat but left his mask on and put on his skates. 

“So are the hives gone now?”

“Yeah I think so, it’s probably thanks to the medicine, which by the way, thanks.”

“No, I didn’t do anything. I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Right.”

They skated together for nearly an hour, practicing jumps, technique, etc.

That was about when Yuuri noticed the reaction happening again. Red sensitive hives appearing on the backs of his hands. It crushed his hopes of this reaction not being stimulated from the cold but that was to be thought of later, and there was no way this (probably) temporary effect could last long. He took some of the medicine and when the hives dimmed, he returned to skate.

Phichit needed carbs. He didn’t have infinite stamina like Yuuri (hell, no one in the world could match Yuuri’s. Maybe a wolf). It was time to excuse himself and take a short break. “Yuuri?” he skated over to his rink mate, “I’m going to go get some lunch from the cafe down the street. Do you want anything?”

Yuuri felt another shiver travel down his spine. “Uh, maybe some hot coffee. Anything’s fine if it’s warm.”

“Yeah, no problem. But you have to pay me back later.”

“Come on,” Yuuri groaned, “I’m a broke college student.”

“So am I.” Phichit chuckled as he adjusted his coat and walked out. Leaving Yuuri alone in the rink. 

Yuuri waddled to the periphery of the rink to catch his breath. It was difficult and unnatural. A clogginess in his throat kept him from breathing naturally. Yuuri was panicking now he had to do something now that the difficulty was making him woozy and faint. It hurt to touch the edge of the rink and noticed hives raiding his arms to the point where there wasn’t a place without the bumpy, itchy, redness. 

Yuuri was having a wheezing fit now. Every time he took a forced breath the throat closed trapping the air in. “Out, out!” he screamed to himself then in moments he willed, “In, I need air.” By the time he made it to the bench and laid down, Yuuri’s consciousness was leaving him.

**Author's Note:**

> so... I hope this wasn't a waste of your time.
> 
> Oh, and happy new year! \\( ^ - ^ )/


End file.
